


Angels Come in Many Guises

by blueartemis07



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueartemis07/pseuds/blueartemis07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy and Ginny come to an unexpected understanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Come in Many Guises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightblue-nymphadora](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lightblue-nymphadora).



Tonks looked down, sighing. Her boots, charmed so that she could walk over several inches of snow as if her body was weightless, was the offending object bothering her.

Was it useful when chasing after a suspect in bad weather? Most certainly. But if you were a winter enthusiast (like Tonks), and if burying your feet in snow and playing around was one of those magical treats from childhood you never abandoned (like Tonks), lightweight boots really didn’t help improving your mood.

And if you were an Auror patrolling the outskirts of Hogsmeade due to the imminent threat of a megalomaniac Dark Lord, with a crush on a reluctant werewolf and a craving for hot chocolate you wouldn’t be able to sate for at least half an hour, you’d need all the mood improvement you could get.

(At least, she could pretend she was one of those elves with pretty hair and badass bows from that Tolkien bloke’s books. That helped a little)

Pulling the long cloak tighter around her body, she took a last look at Spinwitches’ goods on display, wondering if one last patrol over Main Street would be needed when a silvery form caught her attention. It soared, ever lower, on a straight path from the castle to her current position. The natural instinct that caused her to reach for her wand in less than a second dissipated when she realized what it was; Dumbledore’s Patronus.

Miss Tonks, it almost sang on arrival, I have a matter to solve in the castle, and I believe your skills would be much appreciated. 

Almost as if reading her thoughts (that flew to her incomplete patrol), the ghostly, silver phoenix continued:

I have arranged for Mr. Proudfoot to replace your station immediately. Madam Pomfrey will have more details for you.

“Pomfrey?”

The Patronus vanished, spectral feathers mixing with the thin snow starting to fall. Feeling that there was no point arguing with Dumbledore’s sense of priority at the moment (Proudfoot was just as qualified Auror as she was, after all – could this be about the Order?), Tonks started walking, the castle looming on the horizon, dozens of windows only visible through candle light.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey waited with the strict smile the nurse reserved for every Quidditch player that spent way too much time on her hands.

“Wotcher, Madam,” Tonks greeted her cheerfully; this woman had mended her body without telling Andromeda Tonks about it many a time. You had to respect that kind of loyalty. “I understand you have some work for me?”

“No more than the work you gave me over the years, young lady.” Then, her tone was softer. 

“Where is that vibrant hair that used to drive me mad?”

Tonks instinctively ran her hand around a stray lock of brown hair. “Oh, you know, Madam… I reckon my charming self is enough of a challenge to the self-esteem of teenage girls in school, so I figured I’d tone it down a bit.” 

The nurse was either oblivious to the Auror’s façade or more concerned with the current issue. 

“Well, I suppose ‘tone down’ would be an interesting idea for this one.” She handed Tonks a small scroll containing student records.

“Pansy Parkinson,” Tonks read. “Parkinson. Wait, as in the daughter of Xerses and Maxine Parkinson?”

“The very same.”

“Filthy rich, filthy people,” she went on, a bit amazed at the girl’s school records. “Well, she’s certainly not stupid.”

“That’s debatable, considering tonight’s events.” Pomfrey pointed towards the nearest table, where a testimony from a seventh-year Sytherin Prefect now rested. Tonks picked it up and let out a soft whistle.

“You know things are bad when Slytherins are kicking their own out of the Common Room.”

“Indeed. Professor Dumbledore decided to keep this as quiet as possible for her sake, but he thought that with your own… colorful background,” and even Madam Pomfrey had to chuckle at some memories, “you might be able to give the girl some useful advice.”

“Oi! I never hurt anyone while I was at school!”

Pomfrey shot her a pointed look.

“Least, not anyone that didn’t deserve it.”

“That’s more like I remember it. Now, off you go. Last bed to the right.” With the same precise, efficient pace she always had, the nurse left her. Tonks took her time approaching the bed, studying her ‘mark’. The bruises were healed by now, but the injured pride was all over her face. This was a girl that did not like to lose.

“Wotcher. How are you feeling?”

Slowly, Pansy turned around, studying her back. “What’s it to you?”

“Touchy. I suppose I’d be as well, if a mob of first and second years had put me in my place.” Tonks sat down, stretching the long legs. She definitely wasn’t in the mood to handle teenager tantrums. What was Dumbledore thinking?

“They didn’t…”

“They did, and you deserved it.” Setting the pace of the conversation was a specialty of hers. 

“Cursing the little tykes? That’s akin to hurting small animals; did you know that’s a common trait for psychopaths?”

Pansy’s eyes flared with the implication. “Who do you think you are? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“I know I am an Auror. Does that cover the qualifications required to speak to Your Highness?”

It worked; Tonks could visibly see the girl settling down, even though she didn’t let her concern appear in her eyes.

“Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same,” Tonks calmly added. “I had the opportunity to look into your records before walking in; good grades overall. And I suppose you’re quite the looker when you don’t have that frown the size of the Pitch on you” she added, winking, “so what gives? Why apply your time to something as dumb – and evil – as hurting children?”

Tonks’ blunt honesty disarmed Pansy. It also made her feel stupid for a moment, which only served to make her turn her head away from the unwanted company.

Five long minutes went on in absolute silence. Tonks sighed, looking up. While she admired someone who could give her a run for her money in stubbornness, it had been a long night and she didn’t honestly feel she’d make much more progress. Whatever the reason for her evening wrath… Pansy was not going to share it anytime soon. 

“Look, I’m not going to tell you how to live your life; I’m in no condition to life-coach anyone. There are certain moments in life where being a bitch will actually help, I’ll give you that – the trick is to know when, AND not make a habit out of it.” She turned to leave. “If you don’t feel like being a better person, at least be the best person you can be. It’ll be a start.”

Pansy turned her head back too late; Tonks’ steps were but echoes as she walked out of the Hospital Wing, leaving a very confused and angry Slytherin behind her.

-0-0-0-

“Un-bloody-believable!” Ginny Weasley was muttering to herself as she left the offices of Flint, Finch-Fletchy and FItz-Futz. “Those idiots! I’m never going to marry Harry Potter, so why do they think I don’t need a good deal with a contract!” She stalked down the stairs, digging through her bag, when a person walking the other way knocked everything out of her hands. 

“Sorry… Oh, it’s you, Girl-Weasley,” Pansy said. 

“Parkinson,” Ginny replied flatly as she tried to pick everything up off the ground. 

“Why so down? Potty-head dump you again?” 

Ginny winced at the snide tone in Pansy’s voice. “Honestly. You of all people should know better than to believe the papers, Mistress of the Dark.”

“Look, Weasley, I won’t ever mention the green-eyed menace and you never call me that again, all right?”

Ginny smiled wryly. “Certainly.”

“What was all the yelling I heard before you left the building?” 

“I hexed all those idiots and told them I was suing for breach of contract as my managers. They think I don’t need anything more than a starting position and a token amount of money. Morons.”

“Sign with me, Red. I will get you the best contract in the league,” Pansy said.

“Hmph. I did read that you started your own agency after cursing Flint with blue balls,” Ginny replied. “Sure. You can’t be worse than those idiots.” 

“Great, come with me,” Pansy said, finally bending down to help Ginny toss the last of her things into the bag. She grabbed her arm and pulled her down the street, into a small office. Once the door was open, she threw her wand down on the desk, then pointed to an overstuffed sofa by the window. “Make yourself comfy and we can get started.”

Ginny sat, then bounced a bit on the sofa, then draped herself across it.

“Comfy?”

“Yes.”

“Good. So what do you want?”

“From what?”

“Life, liberty and the pursuit of a wealthy sponsor… your contract, idiot.”

Ginny had almost forgotten what she was there for; she was enjoying watching Pansy work. “Oh, yeah. Well, I want a lot of money, some good advertising deals, maybe a new broom––I’ve had my eye on the new Lightning Bolt––and some respect. The Harpies are a great team, but they aren’t willing to let me shine because they are afraid I’ll get them bad press because of Harry.”

“What is up with that, anyway?” Pansy was curious.

“He broke up with me during the year of hell, and we’ve never really reconnected. He likes my family more than he liked me and once he figured out they weren’t dumping him, he was more than happy to let me go. We go places together because we can’t find people who like us for ourselves. When we try, the papers make a big deal out of us ‘breaking up’ again.”

“Sounds like hell.” The harsh words were softened by a real smile.

“You’re awfully pretty when you smile for real, you know?”

“That was a little forward, Weasley, don’t you think?”

Ginny waggled her eyebrows in a way reminiscent of the twins. “Not particularly.”

“What do you consider forward, then?”

Ginny stood up and leaned across the desk and gave Pansy a kiss. She pulled away. “This.”

“You know, you didn’t have to do that, Red. I’d do my best for any client.”

“If I thought I had to do that to get your best, I wouldn’t have.”

Pansy nodded. “Hey, what made you think I might be interested in kissing you?”

Ginny wrinkled her nose and squinted. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“There was this Auror, her name was Tonks. Dumbledore used her to keep us busy and guarded most of my fifth and sixth year. She married Remus Lupin,” Ginny started to say.

“What would that have to do with anything?”

“Do you want me to tell you or not?”

“Yeah, I do. Sorry.”

“As I was saying, she would talk to me a lot that summer before my fourth year. She said she didn’t want me to make the same mistakes she did when she was in school.” Ginny’s eyes went misty as she remembered. “She said that because she felt that she had to prove herself, she sold herself short. She said I shouldn’t do that, ever. Not even for Harry. I had such a crush on her after that.”

“Sounds like the Auror that told me I needed to care about myself before I could expect anyone to care for me.”

“Did she have pink hair?” Ginny leaned forward.

“No, it was brown. I did see her later that year with blonde curly hair, though.”

“That was Tonks.”

“You know, she winked at me,” Pansy said. 

Ginny giggled. “Can you imagine the three of us?”

“Together?” Pansy asked. “It would be hot.”

“It sure would. It would also set all the tongues wagging. Too bad we can’t do that now.”

Pansy laughed. “Sure we can. All we have to do is trade dates for the Christmas Ball.”

“You mean me and you and Harry and Draco?”

Pansy nodded. 

“Sounds like a plan.”


End file.
